The Dragonborn's Assistant
by DanikaHawke
Summary: After the Dragonborn kills Alduin, but before the resolve of the Civil War, he finds himself plagued by a little nuisance, and her name is Miri.
1. Chapter 1

The Dragonborn's Apprentice

There he was, the Dragoborn. Handsome in his own right, a Nord with dark yellow hair and bright green eyes. His beard was scruffy, like he hadn't been keeping too well care of himself, but that didn't take away from the child-like grin on his face. He sat alone at a table across for me in the Winking Skeever, singing along with Lisette, as she renditioned him in the only song he ever requested' "The Dragonborn Comes". Of course everyone was too intimidated to speak to him, he was dressed in the heaviest black armour I've ever seen, and it even seemed to have glowing streets of red on it, too. I've never seen anything like it before, and yet, he seemed to be perfectly comfortable in it. I watched him for what felt like hours, drinking alone, having a good time by himself. He may not have needed company, but I was too many drinks in to realize that. I stood, gathered my skirts and shuffled over to his table. He smiled at me, but that smile faded as he realised I was about to sit with him.

'And how can I help you, little lady?' he asked, so very sure of himself.

I couldn't stop the giggle from coming up, as he took a generous swig from his tankard. 'Well, I have a proposition for you,' I spoke like I had something he wanted, but in reality I knew it was a long shot.

He raised his brow at me, slamming the cup down onto the table. 'If I've said it once, i've said it a thousand times! I won't take your purity, it's too special to your father, no doubt.' He laughed at himself, leaning back in his chair.

'No, it's not that... I want you to train me to be a warrior like you!' I threw my hands up toward him and smiled, but his face melted into a frown.

'You... Are you...?'

'I can be useful! I have talents...' I said, trying to defend myself, knowing exactly what he was thinking. I was too small, too fragile. A "lady" whatever that meant, and surely I'd have no place on the battlefield.

He laughed at me, and folded his arms. 'Have you ever been in a fight before? A brawl at a bar even?' He snickered.

'No, but I am a hunter. I'm very good with a bow,' I said. I felt my arms falling to my side in defeat. 'Just let me show you, I can do it.'

The Dragonborn shrugged. 'Alright. Go and get your bow, I'll meet you outside in, I don't know, a few minutes or so,' his words were slurred as he dismissed me. I hadn't had the forethought to realise I wasn't in the best condition to handle a weapon, but that didn't stop me. I was far too excited, and so I ran out of the bar to fetch my bow and arrows. When I returned to the WInking Skeever, I waited outside like he had told me.

And I waited. And waited. He never came out.

The next morning, I woke in my bed groggy. Annoyed, I dressed myself in my hunting gear; simple brown leather pants and long sleeved shirt. It provided little protection, but was light enough that I could move silently in. In high hopes, I packed a small bag with some bread, apples, a few changes of clothes, and threw it, with my bow and quiver over my shoulders, and returned to the bar where I was supposed to meet my destiny. When I arrived, the Dragonborn was just headed out of the gates to leave Solitude. I thought it was rude of him, to not even try to find me. I meant to call out to him, but I only just then remembered I didn't even know his name. Everyone just called him "The Dragonborn". As quickly as I could, I ran to stop him before he headed to the stables.

'Dragonborn!' I called out to him. He turned his head to look at me, but kept walking. 'You said you'd give me a chance!'

He shrugged in his massive armour, spiked shoulders moving only slightly. 'Sorry friend, I'm afraid I don't remember that.'

By now I was beside him, and he kept his gaze forward, avoiding my eye. His pace quickened. 'Last night, you said you'd let me show you how well I could hunt, so that you would train me to be like you.'

The Dragonborn skidded to a halt, and stared me down. 'You want to be like me?' He asked, sounding conceited. 'In what way do you think you could be like me?'

'I want to go on adventures, and help you take down the dragons! I want to fight bandits and restore order. I want to help you-'

'That's enough,' he said, raising his hand. he turned, and walked away from me again, headed toward the stables. 'You don't have what it takes to be me.'

'Well, I don't have to be you, I just want to help.' He seemed to ignore me, as he rushed to retrieve his horse. However, i was not deterred, and I was fully committed to getting his help. 'At least just let me try. Having someone to help you may not be so bad! I mean, I-'

'There's something I need you to understand,' he spoke over me again as he mounted his horse. I followed him as he guided his steed back to the road, and ranted on about how he could never trust me. 'With all due respect, I am a Nord, am I am a Stormcloak. You, on the other hand, are a High Elf, and are exactly the kind of person I do not want to hang around. I don't trust people with magic, because they always turn on me, or die. They can't protect themselves like a real warrior could.' He struggled with his gauntlet, trying to get it over his armour while his horse walked away from me, with him on it. Frustrated, I swung my bow off my shoulder, and as he pulled the other gauntlet from under his arm to force that one on his hand too, I shot an an arrow to knock the gauntlet from his hand. He stopped ranting about how he could never fully trust an elf mage, not bothering to understand I wasn't a mage, nor was I Imperial, and stared at me with a growing fury in his eyes.

'You are not invincible. I heard how you returned from slaying the World Eater, and you were nearly dead yourself. I've heard of you rushing to healers to help your wounds. You bleed just like the rest of us,' I was shouting at him, nearly out of breath for the growing heat in my chest. I'm not sure why I mouthed off to the Dragonborn, of all people, but I regretted it as soon as he jumped off his horse.

His boots struck the cobblestone like thunder as he approached me, pointing his un-armoured finger in my face. 'How dare you ruin my gauntlet. Do you have any idea how expensive they are? How hard they are to make?'

'Well, allow me to pay you back by working for you.'

The Dragonborn tightened his lips and balled up his fist, seemingly unable to come up with a response. Despite my fear, I didn't cower from him like everyone else did. I was determined to become something great, and he was my best chance at doing so.

'Fine.' He finally said. 'Follow me. Come to my house and clean it for a fortnight and we're even.' he then turned on his heel and stomped off to retrieve his gauntlet. He pulled the arrow out and mounted his horse again.

I sighed, having to nearly run to keep up with him. Again, he kept his eyes forward, not even glancing in my direction.

'I'm not a mage, you know. Nor am I Imperial. I just thought you should know.' I said, already huffing.

'I don't care. I'm not teaching you to do something I know you cannot do.'

'You don't even know anything about me, Dragonborn.'

'Because, you know so much about me?' This time, he glared down at me. His expression so intense, I almost wished he'd go back to not looking at me at all. 'You know nothing of me. I'd wager you don't even know my name. All you know, are the stories of my successes.

'I may not know your given name, but I know you're the Hero of Skyrim, and if anyone can help me prove my worth, it's you.'

He was silent for some time, then he stopped his horse. 'My name is Dorn,' he said, offering my his hand. I took it, and he swung me up onto the saddle before him. He kicked the horse into a lope, and remained silent until we reached his home.

For nearly a half day we rode, until we were far south into the mountains near Falkreath. The whole ride, I had wondered if he was really going to make me walk the whole way. I had also wondered why he seemed so cold and cruel, when usually he was portrayed as warm and heroic. The Dragonborn I had heard of would have never backed out of a challenge, or turned down a chance to help someone in need. If anyone was needy, it was me.

'Come, I'll show you through the house,' he said blandly. When we entered the manor, it was pitiful. Plates were strewn all across the table in the main hall, there was a small fire pit with an old pot containing cold stew I could smell from the moment we entered the house, and to the right of us, there was an armoury of sorts that had swords and axes just laying about. There were even other sets of armour hastily thrown onto armor stands. I wanted to ask him how he lived like this, until I realised he probably spends very little time here at all.

'The stairs to your left will take you to a bed where you can sleep. Don't go into the alchemy or enchanting towers, because I have everything in there exactly where it needs to be. I'm headed out now, I don't know when I will return.'

I sighed, dropping my bag down onto the table. 'What am I supposed to do?'

He looked back at me, expressionless, and shrugged. 'Whatever it is you think you came here to do. Except, be at my side while I travel around.'

I threw my head back, sighed, and waited for him to leave the house before I kicked a chair over. 'Do whatever you think you came here to do' I repeated him, mocking him. I grabbed my bag and pulled out an apple, the only thing I would probably eat today. Obviously he didn't care I was here, but it was better than being at home with my mother. I slumped into a chair, staring at the armoury before me as I ate the apple as quick as I could. I decided my first job would be to organize all the weapons, and properly care for his armour, instead of letting him be a slob about it.

After I had completed my first task, the sun had fallen and I was exhausted. Though mesmerizing, all the weapons were heavy, and chest pieces so dirty they had to be scrubbed down for quite some time. I had finally found my way up to a bed, but just before I fell into it, I heard some strange noises coming from outside. Never having lived outside of Solitude, I hadn't been prepared for all the dangers that would come with living out in the open like this. Frozen in place, I listened for a little longer. The sound of trees bending and branches snapping, loud stomps steadily approaching, unintelligible groans... There was a giant outside. If I was lucky, I could run down to the armoury to get a better bow, and be back up before it attacked the house. But it would be faster for me to use my bow right before me. Though, after some internal conflict I decided to take the risk to get a better weapon. I practically flew down the stairs, nearly falling face first into the bottom step, and grabbed a bronze bow with wings on it, that looked like they might be made of water, and their corresponding arrows. I ran back up the stairs, hoping there would be a window I could perch from, and I followed the sounds of the giant to the back of the house. Against Dorn's wishes, I went into the alchemy tower, and found a ladder leading to the roof. It was perfect for me to perch from.

The I peeked over the side of the hatch, I could see the top of the giant's head as he looked around, scoping out the house. I wasn't sure if he heard me scurrying inside, but he seemed to be interested in the garden, or the two cows and several chickens I wasn't even aware were there. I readied an arrow, unsure if I should try to kill it, but when the giant reached for the livestock, I let the first arrow fly. I watched it soar right into the giant's eye, but there was no time to celebrate my immaculate aim. I pulled another arrow from the quiver, one after another, shooting the giant in it's head, chest and knees until it finally went down. It's head fell out of my view, but I could hear the moans of pain. Worried they would attract more giants before it bled out and died on its own, I ran back down the stairs and into the armory, to grab a sword. By the time I burst through the front door, sword in hand, Dorn was standing over the now dead giant with a bloodied sword of his own. He looked to me as he removed his black helm, and raised his brow.

'Why did you kill him?' He shouted at me.

I threw up my hands, frustrated to not get a thank you out of him. 'He was trying to take your livestock!'

Dorn seemed to almost smile, and shook his head. 'And? Once in awhile, one will come around, take a cow or a chicken, and no one is hurt. Now I have a dead giant in my front yard, and he's going to start stinking soon.'

My chest deflated as I dropped the sword into the ground. 'Well I'm sorry. I thought I was helping.'

Dorn shook his head as he approached me. He picked up the sword at my feet, and headed toward the house. He didn't wait to see if I'd follow, but of course I had. 'It's alright. In time I'll use his body to feed the garden. Sell his bones once they're cleaned off.' He stumbled into the house, and threw his pack and weapons onto the table once in the main hall. 'I'm not so sure you belong here,' he said, falling into a chair.

'I'm not either. But I'm sure I belong out there, with you, as my teacher.'

'Look kid, I'm not looking for-'

'My name is Miri.' This time, I cut him off. There was no way I was going back to Solitude, and I was going to make him believe me. 'I'm half elf, yes, but my father is also a Stormcloak. And one of the Tongues.'

At the mention of this, Dorn's interest peaked. 'He was, was he?'

'He is. And before he left, he taught me to Shout, too.'

Dorn's brow raised, as he leaned back in his chair. 'Is that so?'

'I only know one word, but I can do it. I've been hunting since I could walk, and I have the best aim in all of Northern Skyrim, with the tokens to prove it. I can sneak up on anyone, and I'm great with people, and I-'

'Show me.'

'What?' His sudden interest in me had come as a shock. When he told me to show him I could shout, I suddenly wondered if I still could. I would have tried to tell him that I hadn't trained with my father since he and my mom went separate ways since the civil war started, but if it was my only shot, I would have to try. Apparently, he was eager to see, since he didn't even want to step outside. So I turned to the wall, drew in a deep breath as I dug deep within me to try and shout.

'YOL'. As the Word of Power passed my lips, so did a wave of fire, swelling up the stone wall, unable to set anything ablaze. Behind me, Dorn started laughing, and he clapped his hands.

'Wow,' he said. I turned to face him, to see if he was pretending to be impressed, but he seemed genuinely excited. 'Does it hurt you when you do it?'

Dumbfounded, I suddenly forgot to speak, and shrugged my shoulders. Dorn stood from his chair but didn't approach me.

'Is that why you wanted me to train you? Because you can Shout?'

I nodded my head. 'If you thought being half elf made people hate me, I bet you can imagine this makes them hate me even more.'

'They don't hate you,' he said, softly. His shoulders relaxed as he approached me. 'They fear you.' he placed a hand on my shoulder, and offered me a slight smile. 'We'll have to get you better armour.


	2. Chapter 2 - Tides of War

Only six days had passed since Dorn had accepted my offer at becoming a sidekick of sorts, and already I was wishing I hadn't seen agreed to this mess at all. I wondered if I had been to ambitious in my goals. He seemed to be of the "Learn or Die" school of thought, and twice now had nearly chopped my head off. When it came to archery, I was already a master. He had seen how well I could shoot an arrow when I took down the giant (which, again, I may have been too ambitious), and he decided I needed to learn how to properly wield a sword. It started simple enough, he taught me to properly perry and attack, but when it came time to actually fighting, we had done drills twice a day. I never thought myself to be the lazy sort, but it was more a challenge than I had thought. Between the drills, we had both stripped down the giant for all the meat we could and sold it, without telling anyone what it actually was. The bones went quickly as well, and all the little things it kept on itself, we decided to keep. We had hunted together, ate together, and he even helped me clean out his house. But it wasn't until the end of the week, when he finally decided to lower his guard, and talk to me as if I were an actual person.

'So where did you learn to shout?' he asked, his mouth full. We sat across from each other at his table, eating a horrible stew he had prepared for me, as a thank you. I soaked most of it up with bread, and even then it was barely edible. I could tell by the look on his face, he didn't like it either, and finally having this conversation seemed to be his only way to cope with his terrible cooking skills.

'Well, the same place you did. The Greybeards,' I shrugged my shoulders. Determined to not give him too much information, I decided I would only answer what he asked, and give him nothing else.

'I see,' a pause, as he shoveled his stew around with his spoon. 'Was anyone else in your family one of the Tongues, too?'

'Yes.' Avoid eye contact. No unnatural movements. Give him no reason to be suspicious of you, Miri, I thought to myself.

'Your mother?'

I shook my head, no. I had hoped my silence would make it clear to him I wasn't planning on telling him anything else about me. I also had hoped it wouldn't make him trust me less, if I remained so silent. He kept his eyes trained onto me, and I felt like I might have been melting under his glare. I tried to shove more of the stew soaked bread into my mouth.

'Well, this food is awful, I'm sorry,' he finally said, after a long pause. He had a slight grin on his face, laughing at himself as he pushed the bowl away. Even though I felt the same, I wouldn't tell him that. We agreed we would go into town to eat at Dead Man's Drink.

On our way into Falkreath, Dorn decided we should walk, rather than ride, the reason being that he needed to have a private conversation with me. I waited for some time for him to initiate whatever conversation we needed to have, but the silence was killing me. Instead, for the first half of the walk, he seemed to pout, avoiding talking at all.

'Dorn?' I nudged his side as his attention seemed to falter, his eyes wandering.

'Miri, there's something I need to ask you.'

'I know,' I said, shrugging my shoulders. 'I'm an open book,' ...mostly.

'But before I ask you, I need to tell you something, with confidence you're not going to talk about it with anyone else.'

With Dorn practically keeping me prisoner for the last short while, I was surprised he even thought there was someone who I would be talking to at all, never mind the fact that I clearly have no friends. 'I promise I can keep a secret. Who would I tell?'

'In all fairness, you are from Solitude. I don't know the details of your obedience to... Elisif the Fair, for example, and you could turn around and run to deliver the news.'

His hesitation made it clear he didn't trust me, but I suppose I shouldn't have expected him to, and perhaps I may have been too trusting of him, too. The most we had talked about since we met is fighting techniques, and even the idea of him teaching me the second word to the shout I knew, but there was nothing personal ever discussed.

'I suppose you're right, but I honestly don't have anyone I would tell. And even if I did, I promise to you that I won't tell a soul.' I tried my best to sound as sincere as possible, but as I was tripping over the rocks on the road, it was hard for me to maintain eye contact.

'There will be war very soon, in Skyrim.'

'What do you mean? Between the Stormcloaks and Imperials?'

Dorn simply nodded, and honestly I was not surprised. There had been a lot of tension since Ulfric killed the High King, and his army seemed to get bigger each and every day since then. And after the attempted beheading of the rebel leader... Things had been rough.

'So, am I right in assuming you are a Stormcloak?'

Dorn nodded again, but this time he looked at me with a new intensity. 'And that is something I wish to keep a secret. I can't have any of the leaders knowing who I am siding with. I can't create extra tension between the Jarls,' he paused for a moment, and then looked away from me. 'Too much bad blood,' he said quietly.

I wasn't sure what he meant by "bad blood", but I was sure he had his reasons for keeping his alliance a secret. 'So, I guess you've been in close contact with Jarl Ulfric?'

Dorn nodded. 'For several weeks now. I told him about you, and he is unsure of where you stand, understandably. He wishes to meet with you.'

Only then did I understand that it wasn't a far fetched idea that I may still be in contact with people, as he was in contact with Ulfric, and I had no clue. Granted, it may have only been a week, but we spent nearly every waking hour with each other. But as I thought on his more, my heart plummeted. Ulfric is the last person I wanted to be face to face with, but Dorn could not know the reason why. Nor, could I lead him to believe I even had a reason to not want to see him. I did my best to keep my voice even, and maintain a veil of neutrality. When I asked him why the Jarl would want to meet with me, he looked at me like I might have been a half-wit. 'You're my companion, and I assumed you might wish to follow me into battle. Either that, or you would ally with your kin. Either way, I needed to know, as does the Jarl.'

'Well, you should know better then to assume I would side with the Imperials, simply because I am a High Elf. They look at me like I am tainted, for my human heritage. I no more fit in with the elves as I do with the humans.'

'Very well,' Dorn spoke quietly, and I wondered what he could be thinking. Could he sense my apprehension? And if he could, would he ride it off as me being nervous simply because he is the Jarl? I've spent my entire life avoiding this man to the best of my ability, and here I was, willing to walk into the witches' den. Dorn went on talking about how he, Ulfric and Galmar Stonefist, Ulfric's right hand, were planning the first several attacks to claim the holds, but I couldn't pay attention. I suddenly was wondering if I truly was willing to continue on as if nothing were amiss, like I was just some girl willing to follow the Dragonborn, without hiding a secret from him. And even further, what would happen when Dorn did discover the secret? Would he hate me for not telling him? Would he be understanding? So many questions filled my mind as the two of us only just entered Falkreath, and continued to the tavern as if we hadn't just discussed the future of Skyrim. And yet, what was more terrifying still, was what we did not discuss. With the Dragonborn on the side of the rebels, they were sure to win. I wondered if Dorn had truly realised that the tide of war was being directly controlled by him. I also wondered if Ulfric knew that, and that is why he may have reached out to Dorn in the first place. He must have. He was not an idiot. And the worst realisation of all, if Dorn had told the Jarl of a half-elf from Solitude who was his new student, Ulfric would know exactly who I was.


	3. Chapter 3 - O' Father Where Art Thou

Today was the day I would see Ulfric again. The very man I did not want to see, the only man I had ever feared. I had great mistrust for him, as I should have, for his deep web of lies and his insane belief that he, alone, should be the High King of Skyrim. His confidence was over bearing, his ignorance ran rampant through his followers, and his hatred had infected them all. I could barely stay upright as Dorn and I rode into Winterhold, and it was all I could do but to hold onto the reigns as tightly as I could as if it were my lifeline. The cold seeped through the armour Dorn had made me, which ironically was Elven. Dorn thought it was hilarious, to see me running around in the armour of the people who hated me, and thought it even funnier that he coloured it all black so I might stand out even more than usual. If anything, the unique colouring of the commonly gold armour only made me feel better about my lack of choice in the matter.

As the sun set, I could see Winterhold in the horizon. The city had haunted me now just as it did when I was a child. I couldn't help but wonder if all the elves were still confined to one, run down part of the city, and all the Argonians were forced to live outside of the city, while still working the docks. I would have liked to hope things had changed, but I knew better than to hope for such things.

'Miri?' Dorn pulled me out of my gloom, and only then did I notice I had been so wrapped up in my own thoughts, that we were nearing the stables. 'Are you alright?'

No, I was not, but I couldn't tell him that. 'Just tired, mostly. I'm not too sure how the Jarl will respond to me, with me being... You know.' I shrugged. I didn't feel that I needed to acknowledge the obvious, and the unknown.

'Miri, he already knows who you are, there's nothing to worry about. Plus, you're just so adorable, how could anyone hate you?' I could feel myself glaring at Dorn, as he grinned at me. 'But in all seriousness, the Jarl knows who you are. He probably won't send the guards after you. Maybe keep your helmet on until we're actually in the keep. With your ears out of sight, you look enough like a Nord,' he shrugged his shoulders as he looked more carefully at me, but didn't seem all too sure.

'You're doing a wonderful job at assuring me,' I said with a sigh.

Dorn dismounted first, then took the reigns of my horse for me as I did the same. 'I try my best.' He handed the horses off to the stable master, and pulled my arm toward the door. 'I understand you are worried about what will happen, but I promise you that if he does try and arrest you, I will break you out of jail. Literally, if need be.'

'And how would you do that?' I asked quietly as we passed the front gates.

'I could shout the door off the hinges,' he said lightly. As we passed through the town, people had clearly recognized Dorn for being the Dragonborn, and thusly took a close look at me as well. Some of them, a little too close. Admittedly, while I did look mostly human, if not for my ears, I still looked elvish, with my slightly slanted eyes. I cursed my mother for them, but I was lucky to be born with light green eyes, which looked very human, as well as Nord coloured skin. Dorn wrapped my arm around his, I assume, in hopes people would stop staring. It hadn't worked, and if anything, made people pay closer attention still.

'But you would also hit me with the shout. I can't imagine the cells being too large,' I played along with the conversation, if only to stop anyone who may wish to approach us to speak to Dorn. People clearly recognized him here, and I did not want to have to speak to any of them.

'Well then, you'd better hold on tight to something, so you don't find yourself flattened against the wall.'

I laughed, but did not follow through with the conversation. Instead, I kept my gaze forward, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Ahead of us, where the Jarl lived, lay the Palace of Kings. It was every bit as overbearing as I remembered; High roofs with many columns surrounding the entrance, and a feeling as cold as the winter air around us. Since we had entered the snowy region, I had been kicking myself for not wearing an extra layer of clothing, but now I realised it was not the weather that chilled me to the bone.

Upon entering the Palace, we saw Ulfric and Galmar waiting for us by the thrones. The main hall was mostly empty, with only two servants standing in wait off to the side, pretending they could not hear the hushed conversation between Ulfric and his right hand.

'Dorn! You've arrived safely,' Ulfric said, as he turned to see us. His eyes glossed over me, almost as if he didn't recognize me. I may be going by a different name, but surely he knew who I was. How many other half elves were there?

'Indeed we have,' Dorn replied, shortly. Suddenly, his demeanour changed. He became more serious, and all the lightness in his voice went away.

'Let us skip formalities,' Galmar said, his voice gruff as usual. His eyes settled on me. 'If you'd give us a moment just to speak to your apprentice here, we can then discuss our options.'

I had no choice but to follow the man as he turned, heading toward a small door off to the side of the thrones. Dorn pat my shoulder as I fell in step with Galmar and Ulfric, but stayed behind. Once inside the room, Galmar excused himself, and left me alone with Ulfric.

I almost couldn't bear to even look at him. I felt ill, like I had been sea sick, and I may as well have been. The inner conflict of coming here today had me dizzy, and I could barely think straight. Ulfric offered me a drink, but I turned it down. Instead, I took a seat at the war table, pretending to study the map and all the small red and blue flags pinned into it. I was determined to stand my ground, and I would not back down from him. He was as much my father as the wanderers that filled Skyrim.

'Why are you travelling around with the Dragonborn?' Ulfric asked.

'Because, I wanted to.'

'I told you, that you were to remain in the care of your mother.'

'Yes, well, my mother does not always know best.'

Ulfric stood across the table from me. His arms were folded, and he looked down at me with what could have been disappointment, or perhaps even disgust. I felt the same way toward him. 'I can't have you joining my ranks. I can't have my soldiers asking why a High Elf is fighting with them. There would be too many questions.'

'Well, you've successfully kept me a secret this long. I can't see this being a problem. Just as how no one will have to know who Dorn is, no one will have to know who I am, too.'

Ulfric sighed deeply, seemingly choosing his next words carefully. 'Dorn is his own man, and can make his own decisions. If he wishes to risk the unveiling of his identity during this war to fight for what's right, that is entirely his own choice. You, on the other hand, cannot be discovered.'

'All in the interest in keeping your record squeaky clean, right father?'

Ulfric and I stared at each other for some time. His jaw clenched, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he started to scold me, like I was a kid again. It was the same look he gave me as a child, when I told him I wanted to be a soldier, too. And just as when I was a child, he was sure to gave me a strikingly similar speech.

'Miralina, listen to me. You-'

'My name is Miri,' I spoke over him, and suddenly I couldn't look at him anymore. Not even my mother used my real name anymore, and for reasons I couldn't even begin to fathom, I felt unsteady. I came here, bold but terrified. But I was no longer bold.

'Miri...' Ulfric's voice softened, and I wondered if he was going to try and be a father again. 'I am, naturally, invested in keeping your identity a secret because of who I am rebelling against. No, I don't think that people should know that I have a secret child, and an elf, nonetheless. There is no such thing as half elves in Skyrim, and that is why you need to live your life in Hjaalmarch, with your mother, secluded from curious eyes.'

'You should know, I no longer live on the farm. Mother and I moved into the city when she became sick.'

'I'm sorry... I didn't know she was ill.'

'You wouldn't. It has been some time since you bothered to send your first born a letter.'

Ulfric signed, looking away from me. His arms dropped from his side, hands clenched into tight fists. He was getting frustrated, and honestly I was surprised he hadn't started yelling yet.

'I understand why,' I said, before he could snuff out the fires within him. 'You are so ashamed of me and mother, and you don't even realise how people knowing that you're not against elves as a whole could help you.'

'Don't be foolish, child. People cannot tell the difference.' His voice dropped, and his arms were folded again. He was clearly having a hard time containing himself. I could practically count down the seconds before he would explode. Obviously, his temperament hasn't changed. 'I refuse to discuss this with you anymore. You will not fight in this war.'

'And who are you to stop me?'

'You father, and future king!' Finally, Ulfric raised his voice. 'Now, you will return to Solitude, and take care of your mother. Surely, she needs you more than the Dragonborn does.'

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid, but I kept a straight face and steady hand. I would not run, I would not cry. He will never see me being weak. 'You have no right to speak to me as if you were my father! You don't make decisions for me anymore,' I raised my voice back to him, and found myself standing without telling myself to. 'I will go wherever I please, and that is my right as a citizen.'

Ulfric scoffed at me. 'You're still a child, Miralina. You don't know what's out there! You don't know what it means to live outside the comfort of your safe home. A home that you are stupid to have left!' Ulfric seemed to take a moment to collect himself, and lowered his voice again. 'You have no choice in the matter.'

I could see the end of this conversation ending terribly. Either he would have me forcibly removed, and returned to Solitude to resume my pointless life, or I would have leave on my own. 'I will not bend to your will,' I said, my confidence wavering. I wished he wouldn't call my by my birth name, the name he gave me. 'If you, as the leader of your rebellion, can refuse to take in another soldier, someone who is willing to fight the Imperials just as you are, then so be it. But I will not return to Solitude, and I will not leave Dorn's side, as long as he'll allow it.'

Ulfric took a deep breath. His glare was so cold that, were it possible, I would have turned to ice. 'Then I will speak with him.'


	4. Chapter 4 - Something Bright

The visit to see Ulfric had not gone well, at all. After yelling at me, he took the time to also yell at Dorn, no doubt for coercing a young woman into risking her life to travel around with him. That, combined with who and what I was, it was no doubt likely to cast doubt on Ulfric's campaign as high king. In all honesty, I was surprised he would even be bothered by this arrangement; But I was not about to let him stop me from following my ambitions.  
When Dorn left the war room (which, in hind sight, was an excellent place for two miserable men to have a shouting match), he seemed indifferent. It was clear he had been angry, but he didn't so much as glance at me as he ushered me out of the palace. When I asked him what happened, he muttered some response about the Candlehearth Hall, and I figured he needed time to decompress after one of Ulfric's infamous fits. The night was cold, as per usual, and snow gently fell all around us, muffling our feet as we shuffled angrily to the tavern.  
'He is such an insufferable ass sometimes,' Dorn finally spoke, though I could barely hear him. I laughed but didn't respond. He guided me into the Hall, and told me to claim a table upstairs. As I waited for him to return, I almost suspected Ulfric had talked him into leaving me behind, and he had actually been on his horse, headed back for Falkreath Hold. Perhaps he would have been doing me a favour, but there would be no point, since I knew where he lived. I almost invited the chance to have him let me track him down, just to show him yet another one of my skills. Maybe I'd even give him a day's head start. However before I could entertain the idea any further, he came skulking up the stairs, a large jug of mead in hand, and two flagons.

'You should have told me Ulfric was your father, he spoke so quietly, I could barely hear him over the hum of the Hall.

'Would you have believed me, anyways?' I asked him in an equally hushed tone. Dorn shrugged, and I'm sure he knew he wouldn't have. He poured us each a drink, leaned back into his seat, and drew a deep breath.

'Well, the way I see it, we have two options. Either we let him have his way, and you go back to your mother; or we disobey him and you continue on with me for a time.'

I shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. Which is was.  
'Have it your way, then. But knowing what I know now, I strongly believe you shouldn't fight this war with me.'

'Oh, shove it up your arse, old man. I'm going with you, and that's final.'

'Old man?'

'You may not think so right now, but you're going to need me.'

Dorn folded his arms, and raised his brow at me. It was almost the same look he gave me outside of Solitude, the first time we met. While we were sober, anyway. 'Is that so?'

'Yes. Your life is obviously a mess. You're always alone, the house you live in was an absolute disaster, and you purposefully push people away.'

'Listen, I have-'

'And don't think I haven't heard the stories about how you are a drunk, which I can clearly see for myself, and also how promiscuous you are. I can see right through you, Dragonborn, and the truth is, is that you are miserable, lonely, and in need of something bright and consistent in your life.'

'I see,' Dorn spoke over his tankard. 'And is that supposed to be you?'

I nodded to him, then took a healthy swig of my own drink. In truth I was not a seasoned drinker, and I really should have been taking it slow, lest I get _too_ drunk, and tell Dorn what I really thought of him.

'Well, aren't I lucky.'

After an uncomfortably long silence, of listening to the bard howl the night away and another drink or two, I figured Dorn's lips would be loose enough to tell me what happened between him and Ulfric.

'The relationship I have with Ulfric is complicated. And perhaps one day I may even tell you more about it, but for now you just have to trust that l am not doing this to spite you, but to appease him.'

I couldn't help but scoff. 'Maybe if people stopped appeasing him, they would see him for the horrible man he really is.'

Dorn shrugged. 'That is neither here nor there. The point is, he has your best interests at heart, and you should appreciate that. At least acknowledge it.'

I watched Dorn closely as he finished another round of mead, but before he got up to refill the jug, I grabbed his arm to stop him. 'Is he bribing you, or something? Did he pay you?'

Dorn shook his head, and pulled his arm away. 'He is trying to be a father, and that is all.' He then went back downstairs, and I was left alone to stare at the bard, and listen to his awful rendition of Ragnar the Red. Trying to be a father… What rubbish. He couldn't dictate my life any more than my mother could, despite her best efforts. She may be content to tend to a house all day, and have people work on her farm, but I am not. I'm not someone who can stay in one place. By the time Dorn came back, I had succumbed to a more drunkenly manner, without realizing it.

'Listen, Dorn, I don't want to be a farmer, or a hunter.'

'Alright,' he said, pouring himself some drink.

'The time to venture is now, while I am young and strong!'

'I agree,' he seemed to be staring hard at me, but I couldn't figure out why.

'And I don't want to live a mediocre life, tending to farm animals and skinning dead wolves, and foxes, and deer, and-'

'Okay, no skinning. I understand.'

'And I will be damned if I have to crack open another damn mudcrab!'

'No mudcrabs either. Duly noted.' Dorn laughed as he took a drink from his cup.

'I just want to be like you. Why can't I?'

'Trust me, love. You don't want to. But that is a conversation for another time when perhaps you are not so drunk.' He winked at me, and held out his hand. 'Let us dance!'

I let Dorn pull me up from the table, as he asked for a song he could dance to. I was unfamiliar with the music, but I danced along anyway, and even some other patrons joined in. It felt like I was being thrown around, twirled by Dorn and some of the other dancers, and only then did I realize I has never really danced before. When I mentioned it to Dorn, he laughed at me.

'This is what I mean! I've never danced with people like this before. And I probably never would, were I not with you!'

After a hearty chuckle, Dorn pulled me in close. 'Well, don't expect this often.'

'The dancing, or the drinking? Because from what I've seen, half your nights are spent-'

'Yes, I know.' Dorn cut me off as he twirled me again. When he pulled me back in, he had a stupid grin on his face. 'So have you really heard of my promiscuity? Or was that you just trying to inflate my ego?'

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him, but I didn't respond.

'What are they saying? Have you heard I was well endowed? Do I love like… perhaps with the intensity of a dragon?' He could barely talk as he stifled a childish giggle, but again I refused to inflate his already too-large ego.

'I think, not.'

Dorn groaned, as he took a step back. 'I think you're lying, little one,' he pointed an accusatory finger at me, still sheepishly grinning.

'Still, I think not!' I thought I might have been grinning back, so I turned away and returned to my seat.

'Don't be a prude,' Dorn followed me back to the table. 'Are you bashful?'

'Not so much, but I am a lady, and as such I never spread gossip. Particularly when I believe it to be false.'

'Rude,' Dorn laughed again, as he poured another drink. 'I am a sensitive man, Miri. You should be nice to me, and compliment me.' He stood next to me as he drank some more, almost slamming the tankard down on the table as he stumbled.

'Then I shan't tell lies, if only to spare your delicate feelings.' I laughed at myself, believing myself to be witty.

'Well then. Had I the chance, I would gladly prove you wrong, but I am a gentleman. And as such, I should respect you as a lady, and not tarnish your spotless reputation.'

I scowled at him, but I was almost relieved that he was admittedly unlikely to seduce me. I would rather not be just another one of the girls in his harem.

'Chastity suits me just fine,' I said over my tankard.

'Chastity!' Dorn bellowed in laughter. 'So, you are a prude!'

'I'd rather be chaste than a slut. On a woman, it doesn't have the same appeal.'

'I bed to differ,' Dorn said. Just then, I noticed he had caught the eye of a young Nord across the room.

'Off you go, then,' I said, waving him off.

Dorn shrugged, and finally sat down next to me. 'I'd prefer to continue to converse with you, dear Miri. You provide much better entertainment.' He elbowed me in the side, in a joking manner. It was more familiar with me than he'd ever been, but I hadn't noticed at the time.

'You're harassing me, not conversing with me,' I said, elbowing him back. 'I need to rest, anyway. We've had a long day.'

Dorn poured me more mead, pulling me back down as I stood to find a room. 'You shouldn't let me drink alone. Last time that happened, I ended up with an apprentice who won't leave me alone.'

'Oh, is that so?' I asked, folding my arms.

'Indeed. She harasses me, you know. Picks on me for remaining pure at heart,' he giggled again, and I couldn't help but punch him.

'Perhaps it is time for you to retire, too. All this drink and dancing clearly has you confused.' This time, I was the one to pull him up from the table, and away from all the fun.

By the time we paid for and found our room for the night, my level drunkenness had lowered, but his had not. I had to fight him to get out of his armour, as he insisted I was trying to seduce him. I laid him on the bed, as he commented on how flattering it was that I would help him.

'Well, don't read too much into it. I'm only doing this so that we may both fit on the bed. The floor is too dirty for even you to sleep on. It isn't ideal, but I'm not so cruel.'

Dorn huffed, as he watched me remove my armour, and lay next to him. 'Why do you want to escape so badly? Do you have a death wish? Or perhaps something even more morbid?'

'Not at all. I just can't seem to fit in anywhere. I figured you would understand.'

'Hardly.' Dorn sighed. Suddenly, his gaze intensified, and he frowned. 'I would give anything to just have normal, quiet life.'

'Well, with the threat of the dragons gone, why don't you? You don't have to be a hero anymore. You've saved us all.'

Dorn seemed to think on it for a moment, and rolled to his side to face me. 'Because it's expected of me. Even you are a prime example. You would not have come to me, were I not known for a life of adventure and heroism.' He sighed, narrowing his eyes. 'When you look at me, you see the dragonborn. A warrior. A brave individual who stares death in the face. Everyone sees that. They don't see a man, but something between a man and a dragon.'

Guilt washed over me then, because he right. I never saw him for just a man. He looked tired, more tired than he ever had before, and I meant to console him, but I couldn't find the words.

He took my hand in his and smiled then. 'Don't feel guilty. Everyone does. The trick is to show people I am more than just a weapon.'

'I suppose so,' I spoke carefully, unsure of if he would even remember this conversation in the morning. I decided to take advantage of his sleepiness. 'What did Ulfric say to you? Why would you ask me to leave, when we already decided I would stay?'

'Many reasons. He wants you to be safe. He still loves you I think. He also doesn't want people to know he has a half elf child, because of all people to lay with an elf, one would not expect Ulfric Stormcloak.' Dorn laughed. 'He also is afraid of how you would be treated by the other soldiers. And also… Because he believes I had other intentions. Knowing me well, he wouldn't allow me to spoil you, I guess. There are many reasons.'

I scrunched up my nose. 'And did you?'

'At first, I did. I guess I didn't expect you to be a decent fighter. But I can see now that you would be a good companion. You might even save my life,' he laughed wryly, and this conversation was clearly starting to bore him. His eyes fell shut, so I said goodnight to him. After a few moments, he opened his eyes again, and tapped me on my stomach.

'Don't let that go to your head though. You still have much to learn.'

'Do you promise not to send me away?'

'As long as you don't annoy me too much,' Dorn smiled sleepily, drifting back off into sleep. 'Thanks for trying to be something bright in my life. But tomorrow, we're going to work on your fighting skills. Just because you're sweet and all that, doesn't mean you are off the hook. You're lousy in hand to hand combat.'

'Charming as always, Dorn.'

Dorn laughed softly. 'I know.' He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me in as he sunk further into sleep. 'Rest up, little one.'

'Stop calling me that.' He felt like hot coals next to me. I wasn't used to sharing such a small space with someone. I pushed him away, and he rolled over to face the wall.

'Okay, little one,' he said, only half conscious.


End file.
